by Kyle West
“As you wish.”
He held his Focus, and the image of the Septagon formed clearly in his mind. He reached out, trying to feel . . . something out there in the sands.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
Her gaze went above, to the planet and its malevolent red storm. “At any moment, we will be directly under the planet’s eye. The planet’s eye shifts over time. It’s a tempest, after all, prone to movement. That means the Orb could be anywhere in these deep sands, really, so I’m waiting for some sort of sign that we’re close.” She faced him. “How is it you found the Orb of Binding?”
“I stumbled upon it,” he said.
“You . . . stumbled upon it?” Her expression registered disbelief. “This mighty artifact of Starsea Empire, that hundreds of mages have sought with great patience and study, including Xara Mallis herself, and you just . . . stumbled upon it?”
Lucian cleared his throat. “That’s right.”
She shook her head and gave a light laugh. “What a joke. Let’s hope that your luck still holds, even on Psyche.”
There was a knock at the door. The Sorceress-Queen’s delicate brows lowered in annoyance. “Yes?”
The door opened, revealing the broad-shouldered Captain Rawley, who gave a slight bow. “We are directly underneath the eye, your Majesty.”
“So soon?” At the Captain’s nod, she sighed. “Very well. Drop anchor. Prepare the away team. I intend to go down myself, along with Lucian and his companions.”
“Your Majesty, the sands today are treacherous. Perhaps it would be better if you remained here, where it’s safe.”
“You dare question me? Begone, Captain. I’m not to be trifled with today.”
He bowed so quickly that Lucian thought he’d keel over. “Yes, of course. At once, your Majesty.”
He shut the door softly while the Queen rolled her eyes and sighed. “Imbecile.”
Within the minute, the ship began lowering over the sands beneath. The landscape was warbled through the undulating heat waves. It looked like hell and a half down there.
And this was where he was going. There was nothing but to be mentally prepared for it, if such a thing was even possible.
The surface was like standing in an oven. Lucian had no real way to tell the temperature, but it was certainly far hotter than anywhere on the surface of Earth. It was so hot that the Queen’s Thermalists were forced to combine streams to create a ward powerful enough to protect the party of thirty or so mages.
The surrounding ward shimmered red with radiated heat. It only served to cool the air somewhat. And of course, it would do nothing to steady their footing in the loosely-packed sand.
“Reach for your Focus,” the Queen told Lucian. Her face seemed to not feel the heat, not to break in a sweat at the slightest. Not even this harsh terrain could steal her dignity. “The Eye of Cupid is directly above us. I would see prophecy fulfilled before the day is out.”
Well, she was going to be sorely disappointed. Lucian really had no other choice. He reached for his Focus, expanding its reach until it encompassed the surrounding environment.
“Anything at all?” the Queen asked.
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes,” Lucian said, with forced patience.
She huffed, as if she didn’t believe him. “Well, let us at least scale this dune in front of us. We may see something from the top.”
As good as her word, the party climbed the dune ahead, a veritable mountain of sand. Everyone walked, but the Queen used a moving gravity disc to speed her ascent, while the two Gravitists in the party did so as well, the capes attached to their gray robes streaming behind. Well, let them. Lucian wasn’t going to waste his ether on frivolities.
It took half an hour, but he made it up with the rest of the party, huffing and puffing. Despite the lowered gravity of Psyche, the dune was high, and the sands beneath his boots treacherous.
He turned in a wide circle, scanning everything in sight. Just dune, dune, and more dune, all with that same reddish tinge that was only amplified by the Thermal ward. Everyone was looking at him, only adding to the pressure.
“It all looks the same,” he said. “It all feels the same.”
“I did not come here for excuses,” the Sorceress-Queen said. “The Orb is out here. Somewhere. It’s your job to find it.”
“Perhaps it is buried,” Lord Kiani said, wiping his brow with a kerchief. “It’s said the Burning Sands are as deep as any ocean in the Worlds.”
Cleon stared at him balefully but did not say anything.
“If that is so,” the Queen of Psyche said, “perhaps it’s time we started digging.”
Everyone looked at her as if she were insane, but her eyes held steely determination. “Psionics, to me!”
At once, four violet-robed mages approached her.
“That depression over there,” she said. “Blast it.”
“At once, your Majesty,” the eldest of the four said. He nodded to the other three, and as one, faced the depression between the dunes on the opposite side from which they came.
“On my mark,” the lead Psionic said, raising his palms outward. “Combine streams with me.”
After a moment, their hands became wrapped in violet light. The sands shook, causing several to lose their footing, including Fergus. A massive hole formed between the dunes, into which the surrounding sand immediately tumbled. It was useless. Whatever sand was excavated would only be buried a moment later. The Psionics increased the power of their combined stream, causing the base of the surrounding dunes to crumble . . . including the one they were standing on.
Some glanced her way nervously, but the Sorceress-Queen showed no signs of giving up. Her violet eyes shone with dangerous slight.
“Everyone at once! I don’t care what your primary is, I don’t care how long it takes, I don’t care if it frays you. Stream!”
Tentatively, the other mages joined in. The original four Psionics’ arms were tremoring with the effort, awash in violet light. But as more power was added, more magic, the hole at last was widening faster than it could be buried. Lucian wondered whether he should join in, but none of his friends were streaming, nor had the Queen asked him to, so he just watched. He couldn’t help but watch the cliff racing up the side of the dune they were standing on. If the mages kept this up, they would be the ones falling in that hole.
Lucian was about to shout for the Queen to stop this madness when she held up her own hand. “Stop. Stop at once!”
Instantly, every mage cut off their streams, panting as if they’d just sprinted a marathon on a high-G world. The cliff advanced up the dune, only slowing once it was halfway up. The dune rumbled once, then twice, before growing still. Lucian readied the Orb of Binding, just in case he needed to pull he and his friends to safety. He looked at Serah, who watched him worriedly.
But the dune stood steady. There was a moment of disbelief, and then nervous chuckles, as the surrounding mages realized they were safe. The heat shield, which had fallen during the collective streaming, was reraised, and the heat of the Burning Sands was defrayed.
“Rot it all,” the Queen said, fuming. “Where is that Orb? I will have it!”
Lucian looked at her. “You will have it?”
“It’s here, Lucian. Do you truly not want to find it?”
“And how am I supposed to do that? The Orb of Binding revealed itself to me. Maybe the Orb of Psionics doesn’t feel the same way.”
Or maybe it wasn’t here at all. But Lucian kept that thought to himself. If she ever believed that, then she might actually kill him.
“Confound it all,” she said.
One of the men beside her collapsed, eyes closed.
“What’s wrong with him?” she demanded of Lord Kiani.
“He likely overdrew. And combined with the heat . . .”
She shook her head as her angry violet eyes turned on Lucian. “You
. Are you trying to make me look like a fool? You know where it is. Show me!”
“I know as little as you,” Lucian said. “What do you expect me to do?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Find it? Is that really so difficult? Just . . . do something! You’re the Chosen.”
“Hey, lady,” Serah said. “He said he didn’t know where it is. Why don’t you just relax?”
The Queen screamed as she swept her hand, and Serah shot backward into the air in the direction of the Zephyr. Lucian’s heart lurched as he reached for the Orb of Binding. To his relief, he found it readily enough and tethered her. That slowed her speed greatly, and only once she came to a stop, he reset the focal point on himself and drew her toward him.
Once close, he slowed her and pulled her to the ground next to him. Her eyes were wide and her form shaking. The Queen wore an amused smirk on her face. It was all some twisted game for her.
“I will suffer no more insolence. That goes for all of you!”
Serah’s face blanched as the Queen once again regarded the depression. By now, it had been completely reburied with sand.
“We’ll repeat what we just did,” she said. “Only for the depression toward the south, here.”
Lord Kiani gave a gracious smile. “Your Grace. If we do that, half our Mage-Knights will be out of commission.”
Lucian couldn’t help but note his wording. It was as if the mages were machines rather than people, but none dared raise a voice in their own defense.
Her eyes were violet fire, but in the end, she gave a slow nod. “Very well. What would you suggest, Lord Kiani?”
“A two-hour reprieve, at least, to allow ether to regenerate. And to leave the Thermalists out of the next streaming since they need to maintain the ward.”
“As sensible as ever,” she said. She looked around at the mages, who did not betray a single emotion. Lucian realized these were men and women well-schooled in hiding their true feelings from their sovereign.
“An hour’s rest,” she said. “No more.”
“Or we could wait until night,” Cleon said. “That way, we would not need to use the heat shield.”
“Fool,” she said. “There is no time to lose, and we must continue our work while the weather is fair. And the moonquakes grow worse at night, so that shows how little you know. Do you know how many times I’ve come out here only to be turned away by the weather or tectonic shifts?”
“Wait,” Lucian said.
The Queen looked at him. “Yes?”
“I noticed this dune looked a bit strange on our way up. It’s steeper and taller than the others. That’s why we climbed it.”
“Your point?”
“There must be something beneath it that’s causing it to hold its shape.”
“How could a tiny Orb do that?” Lord Kiani asked.
Lucian shook his head. “Not the Orb itself, but maybe the building the Orb is kept in. The Orb of Binding was inside this sort of shrine, and this dune seems about the right size to bury something that size.”
The Queen’s eyes widened in realization. “Of course. And you’re only mentioning this now?”
“It just occurred to me. We should return to the ship. Get the ship close enough by air and then stream from there.”
The Queen watched, as if suspecting some trick. But in the end, she turned from him and faced the others.
“You heard him. Back to the Zephyr.” When she turned back, she added, “This had better not be a delaying tactic.”
“It’s not,” he said. “I want to find that Orb just as much as you do.”
And probably more. But he kept that to himself. In truth, he didn’t know if his theory held water, but it would get them off the ground and give him time to think of what to do.
He was out of ideas. But if he was patient, the right opportunity would come.
He had nothing else.
44
Within the hour, the entire party had returned to the main deck of the Zephyr. All had gathered near the bow, where Lucian stood at the fore, just a meter from the bowsprit carved in the likeness of a wyvern’s skull.
From the sky, the strange shape of the dune was even more apparent, so much so that Lucian couldn’t see how they’d failed to notice it before.
The only question was what came next?
“Can your mages blast that sand away, your Majesty?” he asked the Queen.
The Queen shook her head. “It’s too far. That was the reason I wanted us on the surface.”
“And we can’t pull the ship any closer?”
“Not without risking losing it to shifting sands.”
It was as he had feared. It would be on him to peel back the sand from this dune. He didn’t know if it were possible, and truth be told, he didn’t even know if he was right about the Orb of Psionics being down there in the first place. But there was only one way to find out.
He drew a deep breath and assumed his Focus. The Orb of Binding couldn’t fail him now. Not if this was truly his destiny.
Once he got the Orb of Psionics, he could figure out the rest later. How to deal with the Queen, how to get off Psyche, where he stood with Serah . . .
“My Queen?”
Captain Rawley approached, pointing a tentative finger north, where the horizon was obscured by a wall of violet-tinged dust and flashing, purple lightning.
“Now, Lucian!” she said. “We don’t have much time.”
“It’s in the south, too!” one of the Mage-Knights shouted.
Lucian took time enough to have a look. The approaching storm wasn’t just in the north and south. It was all around them, a converging noose from which there would be no escape.
“Well, shit,” he said.
“Stop cursing, start streaming!” The Queen ordered.
Lucian nodded and faced the dune again as people began to shout and panic. How was he supposed to get everyone out of this? He realized that he couldn’t. All he could do was try to blast that dune away in time.
Assuming his Focus, he reached for the Orb of Binding. Magic streamed. It was a trickle at first, but its intensity picked up as he created an anchor point that covered the entirety of the side of the dune. In his deep shell of meditative silence, he barely registered the chaos outside his Focus. He was doing something that should have been impossible, and he had yet to set the focal point toward which all that sand would go.
He did so, streaming a focal point off to the south. At once, a layer of sand at least a meter thick was stripped away, flying toward the dune on their left.
“It’s getting closer,” Serah said.
“Faster!” the Sorceress-Queen said.
Lucian restreamed, stripping away another layer of sand. Binding Magic burned through him in a torrent. The first wave of dust was already hitting them, and the surrounding mages put on masks to keep the grit out of their noses and mouths. Lucian streamed again and again, the dune getting smaller as the sand was methodically shifted away. Lucian’s mind was fried with the effort. He could feel the Orb pulsing within him, ready to unleash more power. He could actually see ether swirling around him, as if his consciousness had partly shifted into the ethereal background. Streams of blue magic, drawn by the Orb, infused into his body, only to be streamed outward toward the dune. His mind was heady with vertigo, and the job was nowhere near finished.
He had to believe this was possible. He had to believe in his reasons. The Orb of Psionics was in there somewhere. And he would unearth it.
Lucian stripped away another layer when a sudden force pushed him from the direction of the dune, as well as every person on the ship. Lucian’s stream was cut off, his vision blackened. For a moment, he believed himself blind as an unholy roar surrounded the ship. The storm was upon them, but through the darkness was a violet glow in the distance.
“The Orb! Captain Rawley, put us down.”
Despite the buffeting winds and shifting sands, the good captain gave the order, shouting above the din
of wind. Apparently loyal unto death itself, the crew obeyed. The Zephyr dipped down, even as it heaved to and fro due to the deadly, dust-filled wind.
And all the while, the purple radiance that had once been the dune extended outward. It was clearly some sort of ward or shield, but when Lucian reached for it, he found the complexity of the stream confounding. And its rate of expansion only grew faster.
Whatever it was, it would hit them soon.
“It’s a kinetic wave,” the Queen said, with growing trepidation. “Turn around! Ahead full! Binders, get us out of here!”
“Anchors aweigh!” the Captain shouted. “You heard her Majesty, bring her around!”
But the wave would catch them long before they got moving. And from the Queen’s wide eyes, it seemed she realized that, too.
The ship gave a sudden heave, causing the Queen and a good number of Mage-Knights to lose their feet. Lucian just barely managed to remain standing.
As the Queen struggled to rise under the pressure of the maelstrom, he realized that this might be their only chance. In the chaos, the four of them could get off the ship and down to the Orb before the Queen got the same idea. The ship would be lost, anyway. The only concern was getting through that kinetic wave without getting ripped to shreds. With luck, the Sorceress-Queen wouldn’t realize what was happening until it was too late, and would go down with the ship.
Masked by the storm, Lucian immediately abandoned his post and searched for his friends. He found Serah first, whose blonde hair was easy to pick out. “Where’s Fergus and Cleon?”
“I’m here,” Cleon said, stepping forward. “Fergus is more sternward. That blast sent him reeling back pretty far.”
“We have to find him and get out of here before the ship goes down.”
More screams emanated from the direction of the bow as the roar of the storm only increased in volume. The darkness of the storm, combined with the incredible brightness of that violet light, threatened to overwhelm all. Getting to the Orb before the Queen was no longer the top priority.
Survival was.
“Run!” Lucian shouted.
